The Brightest Sun

Chapter 37

The cart pulled to a sudden stop, causing her to jerk forward the slightest bit no matter how long she had been using it.

Riptooth hopped off, the clangs in his hand sending the dragon skirting backward as they approached. Elia spared a moment to rub the blind dragon’s snout, seeing a pale version of Iacomus in his place, before walking to the door.

The Potter vault required blood for identification, and she felt the tingle as the magic of the ring and the vault interacted, a slight stinging sensation that quickly faded as the door hissed open.

“I require an hour,” she told the goblin, ignoring the slight sneer on his face as he turned back to his cart.

She entered alone, seeing the effects of their preparations on the vault itself. There were few piles of gold near the front, the rest having been converted to bars and placed in expanded trunks.

It was the jewellery she was here for today, the gems and the books being the last things that needed to be removed from the Potter vault.

Much like the Blacks, the Potters had kept any goblin-made items in their home, preventing accusations of theft on their part.

They had been packed away, and Elia shuffled through the remaining jewels, Maia and Teddy’s inheritance – Aegon and Rhaenys as well, he had insisted – packaging them carefully as she worked. They were sure to garner envy, and this trunk would be warded almost as well as the one carrying their gold.

She took care with the books, most of them of the slightly darker variety or written in the handwriting of a former Potter; a thousand years of family history stored in the binds of well over a hundred journals, chronicling the rise of Hogwarts and the events that saw the family rise to prominence. The Potter portraits were the only things left to pack, the Peverells explaining how they had placed portraits in their parallel dimension. She had been relieved, glad that this one aspect of her new family would not remain lost to them.

In the quiet moments of their preparations, Elia felt the sadness at what they were doing; what they were forced into doing. Harry had been the only Potter for so long, and the return of his family to prominence had been marred by this latest complication.

The things people do for power, she thought.

“I don’t care, you know,” his voice said, forcing her to turn in surprise. He was leaning against a suit of armour, green eyes focused on her with a gentle look in them. “I could hear you brooding from the Black vault.”

“I was not brooding,” she denied, seeing the twitch of his lips and the raised brow.

There was a bag in his hand, the shrunken trunks within holding the last of the items they would remove from the Black vault. She walked over, adding the last of the trunks to the bag as his hand cupped her chin, earnest green eyes staring into hers.

“I meant it,” he murmured softly.

“That you don’t care about losing your home?” she asked rhetorically. Really, she’d have to make time before they left for a short visit to those Dursleys. Perhaps Narcissa would even join her.

“Have I lost you?” he questioned, sending a flutter through her at the unspoken words.

“Never,” she replied quietly. “To the end of my days, Harry.”

She sunk into the kiss, knowing they would face whatever came together. A house is not a home, he’d told her once, in the quiet of the night, and Elia knew this love was the anchor that held them together.

“Come, husband,” she murmured, eyes glinting as she looked at him. “Beltane isn’t a day for sad thoughts.”

A startled laugh left her as he swiftly gathered her in his arms, grinning in delight as he said, “No, I’m sure I can think of happier thoughts.”